


The Making of a Peacock

by Navah



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Downward Spiral, F/M, Gen, pre-books
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-23
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-19 05:00:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3597255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Navah/pseuds/Navah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gilderoy Lockhart has been stealing hearts and stealing stories for as long as we've known him. How did he get that way? This is the story of the Harry Potter series' sometimes lovable and usually bumbling peacock. From his childhood and years at Hogwarts to his first literary adventures. Let's see what makes the peacock tick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first three chapters of this fanfic were written in 2006 and 2007. My goal was to make this story plausible in the canonical universe. I did a lot of research to make sure that names and dates matched up where they were supposed to, and in cases where we weren't given exact information, I made educated estimations. One example is for Lockhart's birthday. However, in the years since I originally wrote this story, more information about our beloved characters and their universe has been revealed. In a publication released in 2011, Lockhart's birthday is revealed to be January 26th, which obviously contradicts what I have as May 1st. Please forgive these inconsistencies as they weren't inconsistent when I originally wrote them. In time I may go back and update certain facts, but for now, the writing bug has bitten me, and I wish to continue telling the story I started so many years ago.

"Where are you off to tonight, Mummy?" the child nervously asked. His mother was known to go out most evenings and leave little Gilderoy home alone.

"Oh sweetie. It's just another ball in the city. You know how I loathe these things." Her silvery voice chuckled as she added a touch of rouge to her porcelain cheeks.

Despite her proclamation, Gilderoy knew his mother loved these affairs. There was an electricity in the air whenever Diana Lockhart was getting ready for an evening on the town. In fact, it was a special time for Gilderoy as well; watching his mother go through her beauty rituals, for he was allowed to participate. Together they would roll their long blond hair, share face creams and anti-wrinkle treatments, and sit together in front of the vanity mirror.

Now Gilderoy was only six and had no need for face creams or wrinkle treatments, but it was the time spent with his mother that he craved. During their fussing and primping, she was his alone. They would chat about nothing of consequence - usually the newest beauty products on the market or the latest gossip about the lady down the street. And throughout these rituals, Diana would gaze fondly at the reflection of her boy in the mirror. His face beamed up at her with pink cream still gobbed on his forehead where it had not been properly smoothed in. His soft hair was messily rolled in the mass of curlers on his head.

"Now Gilderoy, remember how I showed you to properly roll your hair? This certainly isn't it. Shall we try again? One has to always look their best. You never know who just might drop by." She continued her light commentary on the importance of appearance as she unrolled then expertly rerolled Gilderoy's shiny locks.

Her hands were soft, and she smelled like lilacs from the garden. She was beautiful. He had the same shiny golden hair, the same soft blue eyes. She called them "forget-me-not" blue. That sounded suitable to him, so he began referring to his own as that particular shade as well.

"There, all done!" she cried, joy and approval resonating in her girlish laugh. "Gilderoy, this beauty that has been given to us must be treated as a prized possession - for that is what it is. You must take care to always look your very best." A very serious expression crossed her flawless face. "If you do this, the world will be at your feet. You will have every opportunity available to you. Nothing will be denied you."

Gilderoy didn't understand about opportunities or denials, but he did think it was a pretty swimming idea to have the world at his feet. King Gilderoy! Captain of many armies! Lord of the land! Everyone would love him.

A loud honk from the car that had just pulled up to their house pulled Gilderoy from his daydreaming. Diana's face instantly brightened while little Gilderoy's involuntarily darkened. She'd be leaving him now.

"Oh dear, that's my ride! How does Mummy look tonight?" she asked excitedly. She stood up and twirled around allowing her pretty pink dress to swish around her ankles.

"You look beautiful Mummy. You always look beautiful." He recited the words that he'd been saying to her almost every night since he could remember, and although they were true, there was little enthusiasm in them.

"Thank you my love. Now don't you forget the importance of always being beautiful. Remember to exfoliate your hands and feet before you go to bed, and I want to see that your nails have been buffed until they're shining when I return."

"Yes Mummy." He lowered his head as he held back a burning tear. Crying wasn't good for the complexion. It made you all blotchy and turned your eyes red.

"My sweet Gilderoy." she said, cupping his chin with her delicate hand, "I'll be back before you know it. Remember that I love you always. You're my special boy." And with that she bent down to embrace him. Carefully so as not to wrinkle her dress, but still with all the affection that she'd always shown him. He breathed in her lilac scented hair, and when he opened his eyes, she was already out the door.

Gilderoy stood in the empty bedroom for a moment. He traced his fingers along the silver handle of his mother's hair brush. She told him that it had been a gift from her grandmother on her sixteenth birthday. If he continued to take care of his appearance the way she had instructed, then he could look forward to something just as nice on his birthdays to come.

Reluctantly, he pulled his hand away from the brush and headed to the bathroom. He began filling the tub with hot water and sprinkled in a variety of salts and oils as his mother had shown him. He lowered himself into the sweet smelling water, careful to avoid getting his rolled hair wet, and then started scrubbing his already soft feet with the pumice stone.

It didn't take long for the pumice stone to turn into a battle submarine, and soon he was the captain navigating through the murky depths of the ocean. The bar of soap became an elusive giant sea serpent. Just when he thought he had the serpent in his sights, it would slither away only to come back from a different direction and wreak havoc on the little pumice ship. After an exhausting battle, the submarine finally vanquished the serpent, although many lives had been lost. Through his cunning strategy skills he managed to save the day. He would have to tell his mother about his adventures in the morning, just as surely as she would tell him hers from the ball.

As he emerged from the tub, he began to slip, and realized to his utter disappointment that he had succeeded in drenching the entire bathroom. Sighing deeply, he grabbed a towel and started mopping up his mess. It wouldn't do to have Mum discover the bathroom in this state.  
After the bathroom was once again dry, he climbed onto his stool to retrieve the buffing block from the cabinet above the toilet. He caught a glimpse of himself in the still foggy mirror and was horrified to see that his hair was wet and falling out of the curlers. With trepidation he ran back to the vanity and looked frantically into the mirror. He touched his hair with shaky fingertips, and to his utter amazement, the hair seemed to be going back into place on its own. And furthermore, it was now dry and silky soft - just the way Mum had left it.

"How is that possible?" he wondered to himself. It was like... magic. A smile crept along his face as he began buffing his nails. Gilderoy had no idea what had happened, but he was glad it did. After finishing his last little nail, he climbed into his mother's bed. He knew she didn't like him to sleep in there. He had his own bed. But he wanted to be near her, and this was the closest he could get. Besides, she wouldn't remember finding him in her bed in the morning. For some reason, she always forgets.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Letters

1968

A ten-year-old Gilderoy sat at his desk in the middle of his primary school classroom. He was quite a handsome child. His wavy locks were just long enough to curl flirtatiously around his collar, and his long lashes delicately framed his friendly blue eyes. It was no surprise that all the desks immediately round him were occupied by giggling girls from his class. The lesson itself was rather bland, something about multiplying fractions. He took no notice. He was busy reading one of the many secret notes that had made its way to his desk. He recognized the loopy writing as Charlotte's, the girl sitting directly in front of him. He carefully unfolded the note and brushed the edge of the paper against Charlotte's shoulder to let her know he was reading it.

_Gilderoy,_

_I just wanted to let you know that I think your eyes look especially blue today._

_Your friend,_

_Charlotte_

Gilderoy chuckled to himself, and glanced up at the back of Charlotte's head. Her neck was rather red, from obvious embarrassment. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "Thanks Charlotte, and might I add how glossy your chestnut locks are today." She started giggling furiously, and Gilderoy grinned to himself as he leaned back in his chair.

"Gilderoy," said Mrs. White, "perhaps you might be so kind as to demonstrate how to properly reduce this fraction."

"Oh, of course, Mrs. White." He slid out of his chair and marched confidently up to the front of the room. In actuality, he had no idea how to reduce the fraction. Well, no need for worry right now, just make it look good. He approached the blackboard and picked up a piece of chalk, and just for a moment, rolled it hesitantly between his fingertips. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. He smiled and began.

"Now, I simply take this top number and..." He glanced over at Charlotte, and flashed her a brilliant smile. Charlotte's face was still flushed, and she was quite flattered that Gilderoy had shown her attention in front of the entire class.

"You, um..." she began hesitantly, "divide that number and the bottom number by four." She gave a shy little laugh. "So the answer is one fourth." She lowered her lashes at Gilderoy and then darted her eyes toward Mrs. White.

"Quite right Charlotte!" he said. "I'll just mark the answer down right here." And when he was finished with his loopy numbers, he turned to the teacher. "I think this is the correct answer, and what a lovely dress you're wearing, Mrs. White."

Mrs. White smiled sweetly. "Thank you Gilderoy, and you as well, Charlotte. You may take your seat."

Flattery will get you everywhere. His mother had told him that once.

On the morning of 1 May 1968, Gilderoy awoke with a smile from ear to ear. He was eleven today. He ripped the curlers out of his hair and quickly ran a brush through his waves as he excited himself further by fantasizing about his presents. He threw his robe over his pyjamas and thundered down the stairs to the kitchen.

"My goodness, Gilderoy!" his mother exclaimed, almost spilling her morning cup of tea. Although she was still wearing her silk dressing robe, he was unsurprised to find that her hair and make-up had already been carefully attended to.

"Good morning, Mum!" Gilderoy bounded over to her, and she quickly set her cup down before he threw himself into her arms.

"Well, at least I know you're loathe to hide your emotions!" Diana smiled and embraced her son. "And what reason exactly might you have for being in such a fine disposition this morning?" his mother teasingly said.

"Really, Mum, you can't tell me you've possibly forgotten." He laughed.

Diana put her hand to her chin feigning concentration. "That's right," she said, "it's May Day! How could I have forgotten?" Confusion crossed over Gilderoy's face, and then Diana's face began to contort as she tried to hold back a laugh. "But what makes this day even more special," she continued, "is that this is the day you came to me."

"Yes, of course!" He joined her laughter, then shouted, "It's GILDEROY Day!"

"I've made you a special breakfast, dear. Eat quickly so you can get ready for school. I expect you and your friends to bring home some fine-looking little Maypoles. They'll make perfect decorations for your party tonight."

Gilderoy enthusiastically scarfed down his pecan waffles - which were truly a splendid treat - then ran upstairs to wash and dress for school.

Diana went through the house picking up little odds and ends that had been left out from the previous evening. She hummed to herself as she ran over her plans for Gilderoy's birthday party that evening. She had asked him to invite ten of his classmates from school. Oddly enough, there was going to only be one boy in the lot of them. Well, she could understand. She'd always been more popular with those of the opposite gender as well.

Slowly she made her way back to the kitchen and gathered the dirty breakfast dishes into the sink. She began washing as Gilderoy bounded down the stairs again. He stopped briefly to plant a quick kiss on his mother's cheek and then dashed out the front door.

At that moment, a rather large owl landed on the ledge of the window above the sink and tapped its beak impatiently on the glass. Diana was puzzled and left the dishes to go open the back door. The owl hooted at her and dropped a brown package at her feet. On the top was a tightly rolled piece of paper. She looked inquiringly at the owl as it took off again with a flutter of its wings.  
Diana picked up the parcel and brought it back to the table to finish her tea. She unrolled the paper - well, it wasn't really paper. She supposed it was more like... parchment. That was odd. She lifted her teacup to take a sip.

_Diana,_

_Forgive me for letting the years slip by like this, but I thought it would be better for everyone involved, and most importantly, for our boy, if I stayed away. I know that little Gilderoy will be turning eleven today, and I am grieved that I cannot be there to celebrate with you. But as you can understand, I have a family here, and it would not be prudent for the public to learn of my past indiscretions._

_I trust that you and the boy are not wanting for anything. I have decided to increase my monthly deposits into your account. Gilderoy is getting older and will be needing more expensive things. I've also enclosed a small gift for him. He need not know whom it is from, but I would be very grateful if you allowed him to receive it for his birthday. I hope you are well, Diana. I will always remember our time together._

_Fondly,_

_A._

The teacup slid out of Diana's fingers and crashed to the floor.

The birthday party that evening was quite spectacular. The children ran round the yard holding their miniature maypoles aloft as the parents enjoyed relaxing conversation in the kitchen over a cup of tea. Diana truly spared no expense with this party. The house was greatly decorated (if not a bit garishly) with ribbons and streamers. There was a large painted banner in the entryway that read _Happy Birthday Gilderoy!_ , a three-tier cake rested proudly on the kitchen table, and there was ice cream thawing in the sink.

After a while, the children entered the house, pink-faced and laughing. They all migrated to the impressive display of presents in the living room.

"Well, I think it's time for presents." Diana sighed with a smile.

The parents joined the children in the living room. It was a tight squeeze, as there were now over twenty people in the room, but Gilderoy relished all the fuss. They were all here for him. To celebrate him. He grinned as he reached for his first present.

He was sufficiently pleased with his gifts. Charlotte had given him a rather nice bottle of shampoo. Her mother was of course mortified when she saw what it was. Charlotte saw her mother's reaction and began to look a bit uncertain herself, but Gilderoy loved it. After all, she did have rather nice hair. It was always in good taste to share effective beauty products with others. The rest of his gifts were more traditional: various toys, books, and the like.

When he reached for his last gift, he was a little dismayed. It was wrapped in brown packaging paper and tied with a string. Surely his friends had more sense than to show up with a gift as dismally wrapped at that. Where was the brightly coloured paper, or the shiny bow? However, not being one to turn a gift away he proceeded to unwrap it. It was clothing by the looks of it.

Excitement bubbled in his stomach. The only thing he liked getting more than beauty products was new clothes! He pulled the cloth fully from the packaging and lay it out in front of him. It was a black velvet cloak. It was... exquisite. He traced his fingers reverently along the black velvet, across the intricate brocade trim, and onto the jade silken lining.

"It's a shame his father couldn't be here tonight," Charlotte's mother said. "Did he have to work late?"

"Oh, um..." Diana stammered a bit, still revelling in the beauty of Gilderoy's new cloak, and was caught off guard by the unexpected question. "No. He... he's not with us anymore." It wasn't really a lie.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry for your loss." Charlotte's mother apologized.

"It's nothing. Shall we have some cake then?" And with that she rose from her chair and headed into the kitchen.

The weeks and months that followed settled the Lockhart household into its normal humdrum of activity. Gilderoy finished the school year with reasonably good marks - owing of course to Charlotte's exuberance for "helping" Gilderoy with his assignments. Diana returned to her frequent social outings. And things were very comfortable for a time.

In mid-July, Gilderoy was home alone one afternoon as Diana had gone into town to fetch some groceries. He was in the middle of reading one of his favourite stories about King Arthur when a tapping sound caught his attention. He looked up from his book and saw a little brown owl sitting on the ledge of the window just across from him.

"Well, hello little owl," he said. "I'm sorry, but we've no mice for you here." He lowered his eyes to the page once more.

_Tap, tap, tap._

"My, you are a persistent one, aren't you?" Gilderoy smiled and walked over to the window to get a better look. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the owl had an envelope of sorts clutched in its talons. "Wherever did you get that?"

His interest had been sufficiently piqued so he went round to the door and walked outside. He was surprised the bird hadn't flown off as he approached. It just stayed on its perch watching him as he came closer.

"Well, you're a funny little thing, aren't you?" Gilderoy laughed and reached out his hand to pet the owl. It rose up and dropped the letter into Gilderoy's outstretched hand with a hoot. He looked down at the heavy envelope and was surprised to find his name on it. He hardly ever received mail - especially not in such a fashion. Yet here it was:

_Mr. G. Lockhart_  
_51 Lilac Lane_  
_Dandee_  
_Kent_

He hurried into the house and drew out his mother's silver letter opener from her desk. Carefully he slit the envelope open and retrieved the letter inside.

_Dear Mr. Lockhart,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Albus B. P. W. Dumbledore,_  
_Headmaster_

Was it real? Oh, what an adventure this would be! He would be going to a new school, and meeting new people. He looked over the list of required materials and found them rather odd. Well, if this was a joke, it was a smashing good one. He'd play along. After all, what if it wasn't a joke? Maybe he'd even get to meet Merlin from his beloved Arthur stories!

He looked out the window and saw the owl still perched on the window ledge. Mr. Dumbledore was awaiting his owl. Was this his owl? He ran back outside.

"Well, if you're my owl, then I think you ought to have a name. I think I'll call you Gawain. Yes, that seems fitting. Serve me well, Gawain, and off you go!"

The owl stared back at him and didn't move.

"What are you waiting for, Gawain? Get a move on! Your master has sent you on an important mission. You must fly far and wide to deliver a most important message!"

If the owl could have rolled its eyes, it would have. Instead it stretched out its leg toward Gilderoy. He was confused for a moment until he saw a little thong of leather tied round the owl's leg.

"Oh!" Gilderoy laughed. "I guess you'll be needing me to write a message to send with you?"  
The owl flapped its wings.

"Well, all right then. Wait here." He rushed back to the desk and pulled out a fresh piece of paper. He stood there for a moment wondering what he should write. When he finally decided, he wrote in a loopy, flamboyant script:

_Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart accepts your invitation._

Bringing his reply outside, the owl once again offered its leg to Gilderoy. With some finagling he managed to stuff the paper in quite securely, and watched with delight as the owl flew away.

Later that day when his mother came home he eagerly picked up his letter and brought it to her.  
"Mum, I've had a letter today," he said as he handed it to her.

"Oh really, darling. That's nice," she replied absently as she began putting away groceries with one hand and took his letter in the other. The feel of the thick parchment caused her to stop what she was doing. Her full attention turned to the letter.

"They want _me_  to attend their special school," he proudly stated, "and I said I'd go."

 


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3_

_The Making of a Peacock_

Chapter Three: Diagon Alley

"Gilderoy," Diana began, "I really don't think you should get your hopes up about this new school. Everyone knows there's no such thing as magic." She was being as kind and gentle as possible. She loved when her son was excited about something, but there was a difference between living in the real world versus a dream world.

It was mid-August, and Gilderoy had almost an entire month to fantasize about all the wonderful things in store for him. Not a day went by where he didn't talk incessantly about the exclusive school, or all the neat magic tricks he'd be learning. He wore his cloak around the house all the time even though it was the middle of the summer. After all, it seemed fitting wizard attire, and he dove into his King Arthur books with even more fervour than before.

"I mean, just look at the list of supplies," Diana continued. "Where are you supposed to get a cauldron or a wand? We've been to every bookstore in London, and no one has even heard of _The Standard Book of Spells_. Honey, I just don't want you to be disappointed."

"I won't be. I know it. I _know_  it, Mum." He had never shared with her the incident a few years back when he made his hair re-roll on its own. He knew he was special. His mother had always told him so, but he knew it went deeper than that.

"All right, dear," she said, sighing. "I'm off to bed then. You should go too. Nothing rejuvenates the skin like a good night's sleep."

"Yes, I'm going," he replied. But when he got to his room, he sat down at his desk and took out a fresh piece of paper and a pen. He began drawing a man with a tall, pointy hat. He was clothed in long, flowing robes with stars and half moons on them. In his hand he held a wand, and there was an owl perched on his shoulder. He wrote at the bottom: Gilderoy Lockhart, Magician. He placed the drawing under his pillow, and began his night-time beauty rituals in preparation for bed.

In the morning, he was awoken by voices downstairs.

"I'm terribly sorry I've arrived so late in the summer holidays," said a curt woman's voice with a slight Scottish accent. This piqued Gilderoy's interest so he quietly got out of bed and tiptoed to the top of the staircase to listen.

"Oh, that's quite all right," said Diana as she finished tying her house-robe closed. True to character, she was completely breathtaking - even at such an early hour. "I'm sorry, but I'm not quite sure I understand the nature of your visit," she said as she began filling the tea kettle.

"I'm Professor Minerva McGonagall. I'll be teaching Gilderoy at Hogwarts this year," the other woman stated very frankly.

"Excuse me?" It was a good thing the tea kettle was already sitting in the sink, as Diana probably would have dropped it.

"We Owled his admittance letter a few weeks ago, and received his acceptance that same day. We just assumed that everything would be taken care of in the normal fashion..."

"So, this school of yours is... _real_?" Diana interrupted.

"Of course it's real!" Professor McGonagall replied. "You see, this is why I've come today. When a child comes from a magical family, there is no need for a personal visit before the start of term. Since Gilderoy's father is a Wizard, we assumed he would know all about the magical world."

Diana sat down. "I'm sorry, he's a...  _Wizard_?" She glanced up the stairs, and Gilderoy quickly hid out of sight.

"Well, of course! How could he not be? His family line can be traced back ages in the Wizarding world!"

Diana just sat there, too stunned for words.

Professor McGonagall hesitantly continued, "Which is why we realized there might be the possibility of his absence in your household. He currently has another child enrolled in our school...well, that's neither here nor there..."

"Does everyone know who Gilderoy's father is?" Diana looked terrified.

"No." The professor placed a gentle hand on Diana's. "No one knows except myself and the Headmaster. Now," she continued, straightening up, "my purpose in coming today is to escort you to Diagon Alley to purchase Gilderoy's school supplies, and also to give him his train ticket for the Hogwarts Express."

They continued their conversation as Gilderoy crept silently back to his bedroom and closed the door. His father. They had spoken about his father. He didn't know anything about him; that was definitely one subject his mother did not like to discuss, so he never brought it up. His father was a Wizard, and he had another family. A mixture of emotions flooded through Gilderoy. Of course, he was ecstatic that he really would be going to a new, magical school. He was thrilled that his father really was out there somewhere, but he was also deeply saddened. Why had he always stayed away? Why had he abandoned him for this other boy? Why didn't he love him?

He opened the drawer of his nightstand and shuffled through the assortment of odds and ends until his fingers closed around a small metal object. He brought it out and sat on his bed. It was an old skeleton key. He couldn't remember when he'd gotten it. As far as he knew he'd always had it. It had once belonged to his father, that much he knew.

A few minutes later, there was a slight knock on his bedroom door.

"Gilderoy, dear." Diana's voice sounded oddly timid. She cracked the door open and peered inside to find Gilderoy sitting on his unmade bed. "It seems you were right." She smiled as she walked over and sat down beside him. She lovingly placed her delicate hands on her son's. "Professor McGonagall is here from your new school. She's to take us to buy your school supplies today."  
Gilderoy looked up at her with his sorrowful eyes. He was never very good at hiding his emotions.  
"Oh, my handsome little man, what's the matter? I thought you'd be excited," she said, concern spreading across her face. She caught a glimpse of the old key in his hands, and a bit of anxiety joined her concerned expression.

"It's nothing, Mum," he replied. He pushed down his sad feelings regarding his father into the very depths of his heart and managed a smile. "I am excited. Let's go get my school things, shall we?"  
Diana enveloped her son in a warm hug, and then headed out the door. Gilderoy got up and went into the bathroom to prepare for the day ahead. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and smiled to himself.

It was going to be an extraordinary day.

A short while later, the three of them were on the train headed into the heart of London. Minerva was quite uncomfortable as she wasn't used to travelling in such a fashion, but decided that it was probably better this way. It would enable Diana to find the entrance to Diagon Alley on her own in the years to come since she wouldn't be able to get there in the usual way. However, she still tensely gripped the coin in her pocket that she had intended on using as a Portkey. The whizzing landscape was making her nervous and a bit nauseous. She pulled a small bottle from her robes, uncorked it, and downed the entire contents. Thank goodness Horace had insisted on sending her with a relaxation potion. You never know what you're going to encounter when you enter the world of Muggles, he had said. Too right.

Throughout the journey, Minerva explained to Gilderoy and Diana a little of the history of Hogwarts and the magical world. Gilderoy seemed fascinated by it all, and asked endless questions, particularly concerning Transfiguration when she told him that was the subject she taught. He was certainly a precocious child, and was rather handsome as well. Of course, it would be impossible for him not to be handsome, what with his pedigree. Yes, she thought, he would do quite well at Hogwarts.

After meandering through the streets of London and coaxing a rather reluctant Diana into the Leaky Cauldron, the three found themselves, finally, at the entrance to Diagon Alley. Gilderoy was enthralled by the magic he felt reverberating in the air. He soaked up his surroundings. There were people everywhere bustling about wearing robes and pointed hats of all colours. Suddenly, Diana and Gilderoy felt very out of place with their own manner of dress. There were joke shops, ice cream parlours, and clothing stores! Gilderoy wanted to investigate every single one of them.

"Right, then," stated Professor McGonagall. "I think we'd best begin at Gringotts. After all, you can't buy anything without any money, can you?" She firmly gripped Gilderoy's shoulder and guided him towards a very imposing building towards the end of the street. When they entered, Diana gasped audibly. Gilderoy's eyes grew wider as he stared at the many small creatures going about their business in the vast lobby.

"What are those things?" asked Gilderoy.

"They're goblins, Gilderoy. They run Gringotts, which is perhaps the safest bank in all of Britain. And you'd do well not to stare."

Gilderoy looked down sheepishly as the three of them approached the nearest empty counter.  
"Now, I trust you've brought your key," Minerva said to Gilderoy. He looked a bit confused, but then remembered the skeleton key he'd slipped into his pocket earlier.

"Well, I've got a key, but I don't know if it's the right one," Gilderoy said as he pulled it out of his pocket.

"Yes, I think that will do," she said taking the key from him. She turned to the goblin on the other side of the counter. "Gilderoy Lockhart will be needing to make a withdrawal. Here is his key. I think you will find everything in order."

Gilderoy and Diana were both very excited to see the first shop they were headed for: _Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions_. They were going to be buying clothes!

"Now Gilderoy, why don't you run into Madam Malkin's and get fitted for your school robes. Your mother and I will go to purchase your books."

"Actually, Professor," Diana began, trying to tear her eyes away from the front window of the robe shop, "I'd prefer to stay with my son while he's being properly fitted." Her eyes darted to the cobblestones at her feet at she tried (unsuccessfully) to not blush.

"Very well. I will meet you back here when I am finished." She turned on her heel and started toward the bookstore, rolling her eyes and smiling as she went.

Diana and Gilderoy exchanged knowing glances and hurriedly made their way into the shop. Gilderoy was amazed at the richness of the fabrics lining the walls. His mother inhaled deeply, and started putting together Gilderoy's new wardrobe in her mind.

An older woman entered from the back room and smiled as she set down a pile of various fabrics. "I expect you're here for your Hogwarts robes then? Just hop right up on the stool, and I'll measure you up, quick as you please." She pulled her wand out from her own robe and began waving it in slow, circular patterns all around Gilderoy.

Diana walked across the room to give the beautiful fabrics a bit of a closer inspection.

"Mmm...right then," Madame Malkin said as she finished up her measuring. "If you'll return in half an hour, I'll have your robes ready for you." She turned back to her abandoned pile of fabrics intending to resume her work.

"Excuse me, ma'am," Diana interjected, "but we haven't even picked out material or decided on a style."

Madame Malkin laughed. "This'll be your first one at Hogwarts, I expect. My dear, all the students wear the same style of robe, and they're all made from the same black material."

Diana looked horrified. _Her son! Wearing all black!_

Gilderoy looked horrified.  _Him! Wearing all black!_

Madame Malkin noticed the identical expressions of terror on their faces - it would be hard not to.

"Don't worry yourselves," she said, smiling. "In a few years' time this young man will have to outfit himself for the seasonal Yule Ball. Come back then, and I'll fix you up with something right nice."

Diana and Gilderoy left the shop with their dampened spirits only slightly lifted.

Professor McGonagall met them outside with a cauldron full of books at her feet.

"I believe we still need to get you a wand." She started heading down the street, and the Lockharts quickly followed. "I'll take you over to Ollivander's, and then I must return to Hogwarts. When you've finished for the day, just go back to the Leaky Cauldron. Tom will give you a feathered quill that I've left with him. It is a Portkey. That means when you touch it, it will take you back to your house in Dandee. Unless of course, you prefer another ride on the train."

They soon found themselves standing at the entrance of Ollivanders wand store.

"All right then," said Professor McGonagall. "I'll take my leave of you now. It has been a pleasure meeting both of you, and I look forward to seeing you at school in a few weeks, Gilderoy. Here is your ticket for the school train. Keep it in a safe place. The train leaves exactly at eleven o'clock from King's Cross Station, so budget your time accordingly. The Head Boy and Girl will be there to meet you and help you with your things. Good day." Professor McGonagall turned sharply on her heel in her endearingly concise way, and with a  _pop_ , she was gone.

Diana was quite taken aback, but Gilderoy wasn't as affected. After all, his imagination was much larger than Diana's. And being a child, his ideas of normalcy weren't quite as ingrained as hers. He opened the shop door and led his mother inside.

It was rather dusty and a bit dark inside the shop. Gilderoy was careful not to accidentally brush anything so he didn't coat himself in dust. One thing he noticed about the Wizarding world is that they generally weren't as concerned with keeping things clean. An older gentleman with kind eyes looked up from his desk when he heard the door chimes.

"Hogwarts, I presume?"

"Yes," Gilderoy replied importantly. "My name is Gilderoy Lockhart, and I'll be needing a wand to further my studies as a great magician."

Ollivander chuckled to himself. "Well, Mr. Lockhart, let's see what we've got here for you. Lockhart, Lockhart... I don't recall ever hearing that name before. You must be Muggleborn, am I right?"

The Lockharts both had puzzled looks on their faces.

"Just as I thought," Ollivander said to himself. Then he addressed Diana, "You are not a witch?"

"I most certainly am not!" she exclaimed indignantly. "Although," she added, "some of the more jealous women in my social circle might like to imply that I am." She chuckled a bit at her own joke.  
Now it was Ollivander's turn to look puzzled, but he proceeded to bring out his measuring tape and let it get to work on Gilderoy.

"More measuring?" asked Gilderoy. He was feigning exasperation, but truly he loved being doted on. This was turning out to be a wonderful day - well, apart from the whole black robe issue.

"Oh yes," replied the older man. "We want to make sure you're fitted with the perfect wand. Now, let's see here..." He mumbled to himself as he started pulling out various boxes from the overloaded shelves behind his desk. "Why don't we try this one?" he said as he handed Gilderoy a thick, black wand.

Gilderoy eagerly snatched the wand out of Ollivander's hand and began flamboyantly waving it around.

"I quite like this one. Thank you," Gilderoy said.

"Wait, boy! It needs to do something. You can't just pick a wand because you like how it looks. No, this one is all wrong for you. Let's try another."

And they did try another, and another, and another. Nothing happened with any of them. After two hours, it seemed like they had tried almost every wand in the shop. Ollivander was secretly thinking that this Gilderoy was probably not magical. Even if he had received a letter of acceptance to Hogwarts, Dumbledore wasn't infallible. Perhaps he had just made a mistake. After all, the parents were Muggles. It was most likely that this poor little boy was one as well.

In desperation, Ollivander headed into his back room to retrieve the wand he never thought he would sell. He found it years ago in the south of France when he was on holiday. He knew it wouldn't be a very good wand to work with - he certainly would never have made anything like it. It was more aesthetically pleasing than anything else.

Willow, with an inset of rosewood, ten inches, and a core of Veela hair.

There were a number of things wrong with that wand. First of all, the wood should be solid, not inset with anything; it made the magic coming out of it weaker and less predictable. Furthermore, Veela hair was probably one of the worst wand cores you could use; it made for a very temperamental and difficult-to-use wand. However, with no other options, he delicately picked up the new box that housed the old, discarded wand, and brought it back into the front room.

Gilderoy's eyes grew as big as saucers when Ollivander lifted the wand out of its box.

"It's lovely," Diana breathed.

Gilderoy fingered it lightly and then picked it up. Immediately, the wand started vibrating, and he had to grasp it with both hands to keep it from flying out of his grip.

"I think we've found it." Ollivander sighed with relief.

"How much do I owe you?" asked Gilderoy still staring at his wand, unable to hide the joy he felt.

"Nothing, dear boy. I cannot take money for a wand I did not make. You be careful with that, now," he admonished as he returned to the back room for a much-needed shot of Firewhiskey.

As they headed back into the street, they talked animatedly about the day's events, and were deciding where they should go next. Caught up in their conversation, neither was paying as much attention to their surroundings as they should have been. Suddenly, Gilderoy collided with something and fell unceremoniously backward onto the ground. He looked up to see another boy on the ground in front of him. He was a few years older with long white-blond hair. He would've actually been very good-looking had it not been for the ugly scowl he was currently wearing.

"I'm so sorry!" Gilderoy apologized as he scrambled to get up. "Here, let me help you." He offered his hand to the older boy.

"Don't touch me!" the boy snarled as he hoisted himself up and brushed his robes off. "By the look of your clothes, you're a filthy Mudblood. I wouldn't want to become infected." He smoothed his hair down and started stalking off.

Gilderoy was shocked and darted his eyes over to the man who had been next to the boy. The man was staring transfixed at his mother. And she, likewise, was staring back, equally transfixed.

"Mum?" Gilderoy touched his mother's arm, but didn't take his eyes off the man. Then, the man turned his gaze upon Gilderoy.

"Father, are you coming?" the other boy sneered impatiently.

"Yes..." The man faltered a minute more. "Yes, Lucius. I'm coming." Then he turned and walked away.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is short and sweet!

_Chapter 4_

_The Making of a Peacock_

Chapter 4

Hogwarts

There were three girls directly ahead of Gilderoy boarding the train. "Cissy," the tallest one said, "did you remember your hairbrush this year?" She laughed and flipped her own dark hair over her shoulder. The youngest girl paused and turned back to glance toward their luggage. When Gilderoy saw her face he was transfixed. What a lovely creature; hair of spun gold, eyes the color of the sea, a laugh like silver bells. He had never seen a more beautiful girl.

Abruptly he found himself pushed aside as another student shouldered by him. It was the boy he bumped into in Diagon Alley. Lucius was his name.

"Narcissa, it is good to see you again," said Lucius as he took her by the elbow. Narcissa smiled and blushed, and Gilderoy found himself growing angry. Lucius glanced at the other two girls and acknowledged them with a slight nod each. "Bellatrix. Andromeda," he said curtly.

The girls looked almost identical except one girl had raven-black hair, and the other girl had lighter brown hair. The black-haired girl turned up her nose and left to claim a car, but the brown-haired girl smiled warmly before turning and boarding the train herself. Then Narcissa and Lucius disappeared into the train.

Narcissa. Such an elegant name. He wondered how many strokes she gave her hair every night for it to shine like the sun.

"Come on now, let's not hold up the line." Gilderoy was broken out of his reverie by an older girl sidling past him. "Poor little First-Year. I'll take pity on you. Follow me. I'm Rita by the way." She was square-faced with short blonde hair. She continued to jabber on as Gilderoy followed her into a train car. He was surprised to see it was already occupied by a small boy with dark hair. "...the Black sisters," Gilderoy heard Rita say. "They aren't really very nice if you ask me. Well, I guess the middle one is okay. But they're all in Slytherin. Slytherins don't really talk to students of other houses..."

The small boy looked up at them with fearful eyes. Gilderoy smiled at him as he sat down, and Rita kept babbling. "...Ravenclaw is the house you want. Xenophilius Lovegood and I have started a student paper this year. We're calling it  _Pumpkin Juice_ ," she continued.

Once the train was in motion for awhile, Rita announced that she had secured an exclusive interview with George and Holly, the Head Boy and Girl, and would be back later.

The train-car was uncomfortably quiet after Rita left. The small boy was watching the landscape through the window.

"Well, she certainly enjoys conversation," said Gilderoy, breaking the silence.

The other boy looked up and contemplated him for a moment. "Y-yes, one-s-sided, it would seem," he squeaked. And they both laughed.

"I'm Gilderoy Lockhart. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Q-Quirinus Q-Quirrell. Likewise."

* * *

 

The Sorting Ceremony

Gilderoy walked up to the front and took the sorting hat from Lestrange, Rabastan, who had just been sorted into Slytherin. What an ugly, dusty old thing. He really did not want it touching his silken curls. Goodness knows how many heads it had sat on in its pitiful existence. What if it was infested with lice?

"No dilly-dallying, Mr. Lockhart," came Professor McGonagall's curt voice. She promptly plucked the sorting hat out of his hands and unceremoniously plopped it on his head. The hat was too large and slid down over his ears and eyes. The noises from the banquet hall muffled, and Gilderoy's nostrils filled with the scent of dust, mothballs, and greasy hair.

_Ewww, let's make this quick_ , thought Gilderoy.

_All right then,_ responded the hat,  _Slytherin_.

_Mm... no, I think green has been a bit overdone this season, don't you? Besides, it doesn't go very well with my coloring. Do you have something in blue?,_  thought Gilderoy.

The sorting hat paused for a long time. Finally it said,  _I sense a cleverness in you. Perhaps you are not aware of it yourself, but in time you will find it to serve you well. "_ Better be RAVENCLAW for you!"

Gilderoy pulled the hat off with relief, both at getting the disgusting, old thing off his head and at knowing he was privy to the best colour palette at the school. He eagerly passed the hat off to Longbottom, Frank, as he headed to the Ravenclaw table. Rita motioned for him to sit in the empty space next to her.

He watched the rest of the sorting while listening to a play-by-play from Rita about each of the new students. When Podmore, Sturgis got sorted into Hufflepuff, Rita said, "Oh, that's rotten luck. Everyone knows Hufflepuffs aren't good at anything. Poor bloke will probably never be part of anything more adventurous than reading an outdated copy of the Daily Prophet."

"Quirrell, Quirinus." said Professor McGonagall in a clear voice. Quirinus practically fell off his bench and then tripped over his own feet on his way to the front.

"S-s-sorry," Quirinus stammered. Gilderoy felt embarrassed for his new friend. Some people just weren't made to be in front of a crowd though. To his delight, the sorting hat shouted, "RAVENCLAW!" and Quirinus stumbled over toward Gilderoy and Rita.

 


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5_

_The Making of a Peacock_

Year One - 1969

Quirinus sucked in a breath of excitement, "You're M-muggle-born?!" He looked like it was Christmas and his birthday all at the same time. "T-tell me all about it! How is it d-different from being in a W-wizarding family?"

"Well, I don't really know because I don't know what Wizards do. My mum wakes me up in the morning and gets me breakfast, then sends me off to school…"

"M-Mine does too!" Exclaimed Quirrell, "except that I l-learned my lessons at home. Hogwarts is the first time I've g-gone away for school. Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"Nope, there's just me."

"Just m-me t-too! M-maybe we could be like b-brothers then."

"Yeah, okay," Gilderoy smiled.

Quirrell fished in his pockets for a moment, eventually producing a deck of cards. "Th-this game is called exploding s-snap. It's really fun, b-but you have to be quick… ow!" He licked his fingers as one of the cards exploded under his hand.

The boys huddled together playing the game and enjoying their newfound friendship.

The next morning after breakfast, Gilderoy and Quirinus headed to their first class, Herbology. The had to cross through the courtyard, and it was a bit damp and windy out. A group of third year Slytherins passed in front of them, and Gilderoy noticed Narcissa at the back of the group. She was constantly swiping at her flyaway hairs around her face. Such a vision of loveliness - although even such visions can use some help at times.

He ran over to her and said, "I couldn't help but notice that your hair keeps frizzing up and flying away." The other girls around Narcissa looked surprised, but then laughed and kept moving across the courtyard. Narcissa blushed with embarrassment and anger.

"Why, that's not a very nice thing to say at all!" Narcissa said.

"Oh, I didn't mean it like that. I just wanted to share with you what I use to control the frizz and flyaways. It's a shampoo that my friend, Charlotte, tipped me on about last year. Just look how beautiful my hair is. I couldn't go a day without it." He started rifling through his bag in search of the shampoo bottle.

"And you just happen to be carrying shampoo with your school books?" she sneered, looking into his sack.

"Of course! Along with my facial cleanser and cream, buffing block, nail file, pumice stone, body lotion, and translucent powder. I wish I could have fit my curlers in here," he sighed, "but there just isn't enough room. Maybe if I take out one of my textbooks…" He found the bottle and showed it to her with a smile.

"But that's a Muggle product." She sniffed her nose up in repulsion.

He looked at her questioningly. "Why would you argue about something that works?"

"Well, you do have nice hair…," she continued fussing with her unmanageable locks for a moment and then acquiesced, "All right, I'll give it a go. Can you bring some to dinner tonight?" She looked around quickly making sure no one was watching. Just the other little Ravenclaw boy. She supposed he didn't matter.

"Yes, I'll bring some to you then," Gilderoy called after her as she ran to catch up with her classmates.

"What was th-that about?" asked Quirinus when they started toward the greenhouse again.

"Oh, you know, just sharing beauty secrets," Gilderoy chuckled.

Later that day, during potions class, Gilderoy nicked an extra bottle and stopper and slid it into his bag. When he got back to his room, he carefully poured out a week's worth of uses of his beloved shampoo into the beaker. It just looked like another potion this way - no way to tell that it was a Muggle product.

At dinner, Gilderoy rushed over to the Slytherin table. Most of the students stopped their eating and conversations to look up and watch him. Slytherins didn't usually fraternize with other houses. Gilderoy slowed his walk as he felt all the eyes on him. He approached Narcissa and produced the bottle. She looked nervous, and her face was pink again, but he could see her visibly relax when she saw that it was a non-descript potion bottle. He was glad he had thought of that.

Lucius sat at the table across from Narcissa. He stood up quickly and slammed his hands on the table as he leaned menacingly toward Gilderoy. "Have you been playing 'make-up and dress-up' with your sister, ickle First-year?" Lucius snorted.

Gilderoy looked confused and glanced down at Narcissa who lowered her eyes. He met Lucius' gaze again and said, "Well, I don't have a sister, if that's what you're asking, but I could probably give you a bit of advice on making the best of your features." Gilderoy cupped his chin as he studied Lucius for a moment. "Hmmm, your hair is very damaged and limp. You definitely could use a trim - so many unsightly split-ends," he shuddered, "and maybe a light dusting of translucent powder across your forehead and nose to cut down on the shine a bit."

Narcissa started giggling, and Lucius' face started to turn red. Just as he opened his mouth for a retort, Narcissa's older sister, Andromeda, stood up and placed her hand on Lucius' arm. "Thank you for your advice, Gilderoy. I'm sure we can all glean some benefits from it.

"Not at all," Gilderoy smiled and strode back to the Ravenclaw table. It felt good knowing that he was able to help people.

That evening, in the Ravenclaw common room, Quirinus began lugging out One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi and unrolled a piece of parchment.

"Let's play some more exploding snap," suggested Gilderoy as he took the seat opposite Quirinus.

"Y-you can't be serious," yawned Quirinus," not with the m-mountain of homework we have. "We n-need to write an essay on the care of the d-dittany plant and its properties for Herbology, and then S-Slughorn wants us to list five separate potions using d-dittany - FIVE - with all their ingredients listed, instructions f-for blending, and examples of s-situations each p-potion would be useful. R-rather insightful of Slughorn and Pomona to collaborate on their s-subject matter today…"

"You just said, 'Pomona'," said Gilderoy.

"Wha?" said Quirinus, rubbing his forehead.

"Pomona," he repeated. "Isn't that Professor Sprout's first name?"

"Oh!" Quirinus' cheeks turned bright pink. "Oh, I… um… w-wouldn't know…"

"Welcome to the first meeting of Pumpkin Juice!" Rita exclaimed as she clasped her hands together. She looked excitedly around the room at the attendees. Gilderoy looked around too, a bit confused. It was just him and Xenophilius. "Right then, now I envision big changes this year for our paper."

Xenophilius cleared his throat, "Um, Rita… this is the first year of our paper."

"Precisely why I think we should have a clearer set of goals in mind. Now I want it to be edgy, modern, and above all, interesting to read. I want the students reading our newsletters cover-to-cover each month."

"All right," Xenophilius said, "This is what I propose: The students here really enjoy two things - that is Quidditch and gossip. Now, I really would like the students to have a dose of Wizarding news interjected into our newsletters as well, you know, to keep our publication respectable."

"That sounds great," said Rita. "I'll take gossip. Xen, you take news. Gilderoy, that means you've got Quidditch."

Gilderoy looked sheepishly from Rita to Xenophilius. "Ummm… what's Quidditch?"

"Oh you'll l-love it!" said Quirinus as they followed the crowd of students to the Quidditch pitch. "It's the best Wizarding sport!"

Gilderoy sighed as he thought gloomily to himself,  _I'm to write the sports section…_

"G-Gryffindor and Slytherin are p-playing today. It'll be g-great!" Quirinus said. He continued chatting about the rules of the game and who the players were on each team. Gilderoy knew he should be paying attention - this was all information he would need for his Pumpkin Juice article, but he just wasn't interested.

After getting to the pitch, they found seats in the Ravenclaw stands and Gilderoy prepared to watch his first Quidditch game. The excitement of the crowd reached a fever pitch as the teams kicked off from the ground and flew into the air on their broomsticks.

Quirinus tried to explain the game and each play as they watched, but the crowd drowned out his timid voice. Gilderoy settled for enjoying the sunshine and listening to the commotion of the crowd while watching the Quidditch players fly. He hadn't been able to fly yet. He had had a handful of flying lessons so far, but as yet had been unable to lift above the ground. He wondered what it would feel like to fly that high in the air, turning loops and diving dangerously toward the ground.

Back in the common room, after the game, Gilderoy wrote his article on the Quidditch match for Pumpkin Juice.

_The Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin was very exciting. Gryffindor's colours of red and gold are very complimentary and shown well to all spectators. Although the Slytherin colours of green and silver are also complimentary, it was very hard to distinguish the Slytherin players from the mainly green backdrop of lush grass. I didn't really understand the game, but it was nice to see other people enjoying it._

"Here, Quirinus. Can you read this over and tell me what you think?" Gilderoy handed the parchment to his friend.

Quirinus scanned the page and lifted his eyes back to Gilderoy. "Ummm, yeah it's n-not bad for your f-first attempt. M-maybe you should m-mention the score though."

Quirinus handed the parchment back, and Gilderoy added:

_My friend, Quirinus said the score was 150-70 to Slytherin._

When he turned his article into Rita the next day, she scanned it over and looked back at Gilderoy. "It's not very good, Gilderoy. I'll tell you that right now. People want to be able to sink their teeth into Quidditch, and you've hardly given them a morsel."

Gilderoy sighed, "I'm sorry, I just… I don't really like Quidditch…"

"Hmmm," said Rita, tapping her glasses, "I'll re-assign you to another subject then. How about health and beauty care?"

"I think that would be just fine," Gilderoy beamed.

* * *

 

Year Three - 1971

He huddled himself into the corner, shrinking as far into the shadows as he could against the slimy, wet walls of the corridor. He was a monster - repulsive. He didn't dare let anyone look upon the hideousness of his visage.

A 15-year-old Narcissa Black bravely strode up to him, her unflinching gaze took him in.

"Gilderoy," she breathed. "Oh Gilderoy, what's happened to you?" She knelt down in concern and put her hand on his shoulder.

"No!" he gasped. "Don't touch me! I'm… I'm so ashamed."

"Gilderoy," she tilted his face up to look into his eyes. They were filled with unshed tears. She knew he was holding them back in an effort to spare himself the blotchy complexion and red eyes that accompanied a crying spell. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I… I've… broken a nail!" he wailed as his shoulders heaved. He was unable to hold back the tears any longer. "And now I'll have to live with this horrible disfigurement until it grows out," he sobbed.

She wrapped her arms around him and smiled into his hair. "Oh Gilderoy," she comforted, "this is nothing. There are so many things magic can do. Here, let me help you." She withdrew from him slightly and gently took the hand he cradled against his chest. There was an infinitesimal snag on the pinky nail of his left hand. "Unguis Emendo," she said as she tapped the jagged tip of his fingernail with her wand. The broken edge of his nail immediately began to repair itself, and soon he was left with a perfectly smooth and buffed nail.

"Oh Narcissa! Thank you so much! What would I do without you?"

"It's nothing, Gilderoy," she said, "I'm glad I was finally able to return the favor. I have to go, I'm going to be late for History of Magic." She smiled and waved as she turned around and ran down the corridor and around the corner to catch up with her classmates. She ran into Lucius, his face in an arrogant glower.

"What was that about?" he sneered.

"Oh, you know, just sharing beauty secrets," Narcissa chuckled.

"I don't like him," said Lucius.

"You don't have to like him," said Narcissa, "he's my friend, not yours."

"What would your parents say if they knew you were fraternizing with the enemy?"

"The enemy?!" She puffed incredulously. "How on earth is he my enemy?"

"He's a mudblood, Narcissa."

"I don't like you using that word, Lucius."

"That's what he is."

She whirled around, infuriated. "He's a person just like you and me," she said, jabbing a finger into his chest. "Besides, Andromeda has some Muggleborn friends, and no one's made a big deal about that."

"Andromeda is walking a very tight line right now. She's a bit too chummy with that Edward fellow, and if she doesn't watch herself, I think she may end up being disinherited."

"Oh Lucius, you're always so quick to jump to the worst possible conclusion."

"I mean it Narcissa, I don't want you talking to that filthy Mudblood anymore."

She rolled her eyes and pushed past him into Professor Binn's classroom.

Lucius' eyes burned with malice. I'll put a stop to this one way or another, he thought.

The next day, Lucius unexpectedly found his opportunity when he entered Potions class. Third-year Ravenclaws had just finished and were filing out of the room when he noticed the Mudblood had left his school bag under his desk. Lucius casually made his way over to the empty desk, sat down, and began rifling through Lockhart's things. He found a jar of powder and smiled as he twisted the lid off. Pointing his wand at the contents, he cursed the powder with a particularly nasty hex he had learned from his grandfather. He replaced the jar quietly as he laughed to himself.

"Lucius," Narcissa said as she sat down next to him, "what time did you say Slughorn's Christmas party was supposed to start tonight?"

He looked up sharply as he let go of Lockhart's bag. "Eight o'clock, Narcissa. I will meet you in the common room at 7:45. Be sure to wear something striking, yet tasteful. There are bound to be some Wizards of influence in attendance this evening."

Later that evening, in the first floor girls' bathroom, Gilderoy was unrolling the last curler out of Narcissa's hair. She was wearing a pretty silver party dress that shimmered as it caught the light.

"I've never had my hair curled before," giggled Narcissa. It looks so different.

"It looks very elegant and frames your face beautifully." She really did look very attractive tonight, he thought to himself. She lowered her lashes and blushed. He started sweating under his arms.

"I have some...," he started, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat. "I have some face powder I want you to take with you tonight. If you get shiny at all, just dust a little bit on."

"Well, thank you, Gilderoy, that's very kind."

"Don't mention it," he smiled, "I'm glad I have it for you. I left my bag in Potions earlier today. I had to run back down there to retrieve it just before meeting you tonight."

"I'm glad you have it too. Well, I better be off. Lucius is very punctual, and I don't want to make him wait," she said as she gathered her things. Then, looking like a princess, she walked out the door.

The party was a somewhat boring affair to Narcissa. Lucius seemed to be enjoying himself though. Just as she had expected, Professor Slughorn had invited some rather distinguished Wizards and Witches to the party. This was an excellent opportunity to network and rub shoulders with what her parents would call 'the right sort of people'.

She could tell Lucius was a bit nervous, but he held himself well - chatting about the latest goings on at the Ministry and making small talk about Quidditch. She had been to many functions like this in the past since her family was well-known and respected. She was an ornament for Lucius' arm. She knew that. It was her place to smile, nod, and laugh at the right times, and she did.

When there was a lull in conversation, Narcissa turned slightly away from the crowd and opened her clutch to retrieve Gilderoy's face powder. It was a bit stifling with so many people in such small quarters, and she could feel a thin sheen of sweat on her face. She opened the jar and dusted the pouf with powder, then gingerly patted it over her nose.

All of the sudden, she felt blistering pain erupt inside her nostrils as thick, yellow, pungent pus shot out from her nose. It hit the wall, and some of it splattered back onto her dress. She turned around in confusion and pain and inadvertently sprayed the closest party guests with the foul pus. The party-goers looked on in horror and disgust as she continued shooting pus from her nose projecting it all around her and down her dress. She had to open her mouth in order to breathe, which enabled the pus to drip in it. She gagged and vomited, falling to her knees.

When Professor Slughorn realized the cause of the commotion, he immediately crossed the room in swift strides pulling his wand out. "Finite incantatem!" he roared.

Immediately the pus ceased flowing, and the pain stopped. Narcissa wretched again on the floor.

Lucius looked on in confusion and disgust until sudden comprehension dawned on him. Of course! Lockhart must have given her his powder tonight. Well, this wasn't his intended result when he had hexed it, but it would certainly do the job. He schooled his features to show concern instead of repulsion and bent down to offer Narcissa his hand.

"My dear, Narcissa, are you feeling unwell? Let me take you to the hospital wing."

She weakly lifted her pus-covered hand to his. He choked back bile and took her hand.

Professor Slughorn came closer to inspect the scene and observed the powder spilled on the floor behind Narcissa. He waved his wand above it and quickly recoiled. "This powder has been hexed," he announced. "Take care not to touch it. I will have it removed momentarily." He turned toward Narcissa who was sheltered under Lucius' arm now. "Dear girl, where did you get that?"

"F-from… someone I thought was my friend." Her lower lip quivered, and she buried her head into Lucius' chest as she began to sob.

"I'll take care of her, Professor." Lucius said as he escorted her away.

As they approached the hospital wing, they passed a group of Ravenclaws making their way back from dinner in the Great Hall. Lucius noticed that Lockhart was among them. He wasn't the only one who noticed. Narcissa tore herself from Lucius' arms and stormed over to Lockhart.

Gilderoy was stunned when he saw Narcissa stalking toward him. She was an absolute mess. Her beautiful dress was ruined, her hair was in disarray, and her make-up was flowing freely down her face along with her tears. The smell emanating from her was also horrific. She looked like something out of a nightmare.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU, GILDEROY LOCKHART!" she cried before she turned and ran down the corridor, tears trailing down her soft cheeks.

Gilderoy stood there, dumbfounded. Lucius glared at him and then turned to follow Narcissa down the hallway, a smile spreading across his face.

 


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6_

_The Making of a Peacock_

1973-74 Year 5

 One evening at dinner, Gilderoy noticed Professor Slughorn go over to the Slytherin table.  He walked up to Lucius who had been laughing with his friends.  Slughorn spoke briefly, and Gilderoy saw how Lucius’ face fell.  He immediately stood and followed Slughorn out of the Great Hall.

 Gilderoy wondered what had happened.  He didn’t see Lucius the next day either, or the next.  He found Narcissa in the corridor after dinner, and even though their relationship had been strained, his curiosity got the best of him.

 “What happened to Lucius?” Gilderoy asked her.

 “Oh Gilderoy,” she said, her eyes shining, “his father died.”  She threw herself into his arms and began sobbing.  He patted her back awkwardly.  He felt bad for Lucius, but he was glad that Narcissa didn’t hate him anymore.

 After what seemed like ages, she finally pulled back and wiped her eyes.  “Oh, I’m all puffy!” she wailed.  Gilderoy thought she had never been more beautiful.

 “Come with me,” he said getting up and offering his hand to her.

 “Where are we going?” she asked as she hesitantly placed her hand in his.

 “Outside the castle,” he said as he pulled her along.

 “We’ll get in trouble!” she said, but followed along anyway.  

 Once outside, she had to run hard to keep up with him.  The thrill of risk flushed her with energy.  The night air was cold, and it pierced their lungs with each breath.  He led her to the top of a large hill and then stopped.

 “There,” he pointed toward the sky.  The moon was full and bright against a backdrop of velvet and diamonds.  

 “It’s beautiful,” Narcissa breathed.

 They lay on the soft grass looking up to the stars.  She reached out her hand to his.  He hoped she didn’t notice how sweaty his palm was.

 She was silent for a long time.

 “I wish Lucius was more like you,” she said.

 “What do you mean?” asked Gilderoy.

 “I mean… I feel like I can be myself when I’m around you.  With him, I’m always waiting for criticism.” She paused, then added, “I wish he cared more about his appearance.  I mean, he has nice clothes and all, but have you seen his skin lately?  He won’t even take the time to use a simple blemish control charm in the mornings.”

 “I understand,” said Gilderoy

 After a time, they stole back to the castle.  Narcissa squeezed his hand before turning toward the Slytherin common room.  He floated up the steps to the Ravenclaw tower, never feeling his feet touch the floor.

 “You really shoot for the moon, don’t you?” said Quirinus in their room. “I mean, come on, it’s Narcissa Black!  She’s a seventh year, comes from a prestigious pure-blood family, and is pretty much engaged to Lucius Malfoy - who, might I add, ALSO comes from one of the most powerful pure-blood families in England.  You’re really setting yourself up for disappointment.”

 “You don’t know that,” said Gilderoy as he pulled his covers over his head then smiled at the image of Narcissa’s face behind his closed eyes.

 Lucius returned to school the next week.  He had dark circles under his eyes and was in a constant surly disposition.  Narcissa fell back into her role as dutiful girlfriend, and did not have time for Gilderoy anymore.

 After a few weeks of no contact at all with Narcissa, Gilderoy couldn’t stand it anymore.  He couldn’t just let her go - and to Lucius no less.  He had to try.

 At afternoon break, he saw her in the courtyard and strode over in earnest.  Narcissa saw him coming and locked eyes with him.  They were filled with worry, and just before he reached her, Lucius seemingly came out of nowhere and placed his arm possessively around her shoulders.  She shook her head almost imperceptibly at Gilderoy - willing him to turn around and walk the other way.  He couldn’t do it.  He had to try.

 “What do you want, Curler-Boy?” Lucius sneered in irritated derision.

 “I want to speak with Narcissa, if you don’t mind,” Gilderoy held his ground.

 “Well, she doesn’t want to speak to you, now off you go,” Lucius dismissed him.

 He turned to Narcissa.  “Narcissa please…”

 “Gilderoy stop,” she breathed darting her eyes warily toward Lucius.

 Gilderoy continued on, “Don’t let him decide who you can and can’t talk to.  We used to be friends.”  He became more desperate, “I miss our time together…  I lov-..”

 Lucius stepped in between them and shoved Gilderoy back hard.  “Shut up, Mudblood!  Don’t you dare try to present yourself as equal to my girlfriend!”  He shoved him back again even harder, and Gilderoy stumbled backward and fell down.  “You’re filthy!” He kicked him in the stomach. “You’re unclean!” _Kick._  “How dare you try to tarnish the Black family name…” _Kick._  “And by proximity, the Malfoy family name!”   _Kick, kick, kick._

 Gilderoy had stopped moving.

 Narcissa began sobbing, but would not come to his aid.  When Lucius had finished, he grabbed her arm and stormed off.

 Quirinus ran forward and knelt by Gilderoy, “Someone get help!”

 The next day, Gilderoy woke up in the hospital wing.  Thanks to the excellent care of the nurse, his body was nearly mended, although his heart still ached.

 “You’re free to go,” said the nurse sweetly.  “Try to stay out of trouble, dear.”

 He trudged back toward his common room.  As he passed an empty classroom, he heard Narcissa’s voice call out to him softly.  His spirits lifted and he quickly slipped inside the room.  Narcissa closed the door behind them and warded the door.

 “I can’t see you anymore.”

 “What?  What do you mean?”

 “I’m to be married, Gilderoy,”  she said turning away from him.

 His face fell.  He knew it was coming.  Knew that her marriage had been arranged for many years.  But it still hurt.  He stepped up close behind her, so close that his chest touched her back.  He felt her body start to relax as she leaned into him.  She felt like comfort and home and warm sunshine.

 “Narcissa…” he started, brushing his hand against her arm. She immediately stiffened again.

 “I can’t,” she strangled out as she rushed out of the room.

* * *

Diana

 The money stopped coming.  At first she thought it was a simple banking error.  But then the next month’s deposit never came either.  After 3 months of no income, she realized it couldn’t have been an error. She had no way to get in touch with Gilderoy’s father either.  She went to the bank to inquire and was told that the contributing account had been closed due to the account holder being deceased.  She covered her mouth in horror.

 For the first time in 15 years she didn’t know what to do.  She didn’t know how she was going to support herself and her son.  She had no marketable skills being a socialite.  

 _I will not let my son suffer_ , she thought to herself.  And with fierce determination, she went to her vanity and began packing what remained of her beauty products to send to Hogwarts.  A mother’s sacrifice.


	7. Chapter 7

Summer 1974

“Where are all our things, Mum?” Gilderoy looked around at the empty parlour of his home in Dandee.

“Oh, you know… I thought we had too many things.” She tried to meet his gaze, but couldn’t help but avert her eyes. “You know… declutter.” Her voice trailed off.

“This is more than decluttering. There’s nothing here.” He walked through to the dining room. Empty. Then the kitchen. Empty. He ran up the stairs. Each room was empty. All of his things, gone. The last room he entered was his mother’s. There was no vanity. No silver hairbrush. All of her things were gone too. Abruptly, he noticed the absence of her lilac perfume.

“I’m so sorry, dear. I didn’t know how to tell you,” Diana said, coming in the doorway.

Gilderoy turned to look at her, finally noticing the slight lines on her forehead and the strands of grey in her hair. When had she aged?

Diana’s eyes were brimming with tears, and she struggled to keep her voice from shaking. “We’ve… fallen on hard times, Gilderoy.”

“So you sold all of our things?!” 

“I had no choice!”

Gilderoy clenched and unclenched his fists. Finally he asked quietly, “Where are we to sleep? On the floor?”

The tears were flowing freely down Diana’s cheeks now. “No.” It was barely more than a whisper. “I’ve rented a flat for us.” She held his disbelieving gaze. “I’ve had to sell the house as well.”

________________________________________

Professor McGonagall pressed the rolled parchment into Diana’s hand as they stood in front of Flourish and Blotts. “Hogwarts supports students in need with a financial scholarship,” she said, “so you won’t have to worry about that, dear. We will provide for Gilderoy’s tuition and supplies this year. Just show this letter to each proprietor, and they will supply the items listed at no charge to you.” 

Each shop they visited was a worse experience than the last. Gilderoy soon discovered that the scholarship did not cover new items. He soon had a worn-out cauldron filled with smelly, tatty robes and used textbooks.

When they arrived at their flat, Gilderoy sat, defeated. “I can’t do this, Mum. I can’t go to Hogwarts in second-hand robes. I haven’t had a decent shampoo or facial all summer. My hair… it’s getting... frizzy.” He covered his face in shame, and suddenly the image of Narcissa’s frizzy hair 5 years ago came unbidden to the forefront of his mind. The tears fell.

“You CAN do this, Gilderoy! You’re stronger than you think.” She wrapped him in her arms, which was quite difficult to do since he was now much taller than she. “You’re my dear, sweet, brave boy.”  
________________________________________

Year 6

Classes were a blur. He hardly was aware of the day-to-day life he was required to participate in. His world was grey and monotonous. In a couple years, he would be free from the confines of the castle. He just had to get through the present, and to accomplish that, he found himself daydreaming quite a bit.

He would be a handsome, fearless knight who saved the princess from a fiery dragon. Or maybe he was a healer who saved the inhabitants of a village from a nasty plague. Or sometimes he was a great duelist who bested He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He didn’t dwell on that fantasy very often though, because deep down, he was really afraid of You-Know-Who and his Death-eaters.

He began writing down his adventures. He spent all his free time reading, writing, and editing his own fiction that began blurring the lines of his reality.

________________________________________  
Year 7

“So what are you going to do after graduation?” asked Quirinus

“No idea,” said Gilderoy, “you?”

“Well, I’m hoping to become a teacher.”

“Really? I had no idea you had an interest in teaching.”

“Yeah, actually Professor Bebbington has decided to only stay on one more year. I’m going to see if I can work with him next year and start taking over his classes. 

“Muggle Studies, you say? Where’s the challenge in that?”

“You only say that because you were raised as a Muggle.” Quirinus laughed. “I’ve been conferencing with both Dumbledore and Bebbington all year. I submit my application in a couple weeks, and then it will just depend on my NEWT scores.”

Gilderoy suddenly realized that Quirinus didn’t stutter anymore. When had that stopped? He wasn’t a small, shy boy anymore. He was a competent Wizard. “Wow, you’ve got it all planned out already, huh?” 

“Well, yes of course. You don’t?”

“Not really.”

“You like writing. Have you thought about writing for the Prophet? I’m sure Rita could give you a good recommendation.”

It sounded so underwhelming, a boring desk job of writing mundane facts in a cubicle for a weekly printing. Where was the zest? Where was the passion, enthusiasm, literary freedom? He was better than that, wasn’t he? He was destined to live a life greater than that. “I think I’d like to see the world a bit. You know, I’ve never really travelled.”

“That’s an excellent idea, Gilderoy. I’d love to see the world too... someday anyway. Maybe we could go on holiday somewhere after graduation,” Quirinus said wistfully.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

“I’ll do some research and see what I can find.” Quirinus paused, then continued. “You know, sometimes I wish I could just take life as it comes at me like you do. Never be afraid or intimidated by anything.”

Gilderoy’s eyes brightened. “What do you say you don’t plan our trip?”

“What?”

“Yeah,” said Gilderoy, his eyes gleaming. “What do you say after graduating we just… go somewhere random. We’ll choose it that day.”


	8. Chapter 8

September 1980 - Wagga Wagga, Australia

He awoke with a start - exhilaration coursing through his veins. He was a conqueror, a protector, a hero. Slowly realization began to wash over him as he took in his surroundings: The corner of some hovel provided to him out of charity because he had nowhere else to go. Tears started to burn his eyes. How had he fallen so far? This was not how he imagined his life turning out. 

He had come to Australia four years ago with his friend, Quirinus. Gilderoy promoted the trip as an adventure to a new, unfamiliar country, but his main motive had been wanting to leave Britain because of the threat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

After a few weeks of travel, Quirinus had returned to Hogwarts to prepare for his new teaching position, and Gilderoy had remained in Australia - planning to find his fortune in the Outback. Instead, his livelihood consisted of washing dishes in a grungy pub and sleeping on a pile of hay in the cellar.

He thought of the grizzled old Warlock he met earlier that day with his toothless grimace and repulsive looking empty eye socket. That Warlock had killed a werewolf and saved a village. Jealousy and malcontent brewed under Gilderoy’s skin.

“It should have been me,” he whispered hoarsely as he let his frustration and disappointment fill him. “IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME!”  
________________________________________

“Why did you want to meet out here instead of at the pub?” The warlock asked. His grizzled face showed a bit of impatience from having to leave his beer behind.

“Oh, I just… ahem,” Gilderoy’s voice wavered a little, “I… ah… wanted to see where the battle took place. You know, get a sense of the atmosphere and your surroundings.”

The warlock turned around and pointed to a copse of trees not far away. “Well, there wasn’t much to it actually. You see, the werewolf was already pretty beaten up - maybe encountered a hippogriff or something - and old too, by the looks of it. When he came after me, it was really only a half-hearted attempt, I think. I just used a simple stunning spell. Pitiful thing never woke up.”

Well, that didn’t make a very good story, thought Gilderoy as he rolled his eyes. 

The warlock turned toward the village seeking out his favorite pub. “Well, I guess that’s that,” he said, his back to Gilderoy. “I still don’t see why you think anyone would want to actually read about this.” He took a step toward the village.

Gilderoy slowly pulled out his wand. His hand shook slightly, and his heart hammered against his chest. If he was going to do something, he’d better do it quickly. Soon he would lose his opportunity. But could he really do this? This wasn’t just a harmless story he’d be writing. These were someone’s memories, someone else’s achievements that he would be stealing. Soon all sound was muffled behind the blood rushing in his ears. The Warlock took another step toward the village then started to turn around.

“Aren’t you com…”

“OBLIVIATE!” Gilderoy cried hysterically as he flicked his wand. His breathing was wild and erratic. His eyes wide with fear. 

The warlock paused, his one eye going out of focus, then he looked up at Gilderoy with confusion. He pressed a hand to his forehead and then took in Gilderoy’s frantic condition. “Hey mate,” he said slowly, “are you all right?”

Gilderoy looked at the warlock with wide open eyes and then glanced over to his wand, still held aloft. He slowed his breathing. “Yes...” he whispered. He gulped and put his wand away. “Yes... I’ve just... killed a werewolf.”

The man twisted round in fear, his entire body becoming tense, “Merlin’s beard!” He exclaimed. “Are there any more about?”

By this time, Gilderoy had begun to master himself again. “No… no…,” he put his hand on the other man’s shoulder. “I have eradicated the problem and in so doing, saved the village.” He took a deep, cleansing breath through his nose. “Come now, let’s get you safely indoors.”

Later than night, Gilderoy put quill to parchment:

Frothy mouth of dripping fangs. Fetid breath.  
Woman in a torn dress protects her child from the creature.

He thought it was an excellent start.  
________________________________________  
November 1981

Rita Skeeter peered into the fireplace, “Gilderoy Lockhart! It’s been far too long, my friend. Come in and sit a spell!”

“Oh I wish I could, I’m just getting ready to leave for a banquet being held in my honor. I don’t know if you’ve heard of my accomplishments of late, but I’ve been helping to eradicate dangerous beasts in foreign locales, rescuing villages, that kind of thing. It’s very rewarding work, but it does take a lot of my time,” he mused.

“Well that is fascinating, to be sure, Gilderoy. Have you ever thought of writing any of your adventures down?”

“Now that you mention it, I have been keeping a notebook of my memoirs… for posterity of course.”

Rita tapped her quill against her spectacles for a moment. “Oh Gilderoy, this is just the kind of thing the public wants to know about! With the recent fall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, people are just itching for a great, heroic story! Send me your manuscript, and I will see what I can do.”

Gilderoy’s floating head chuckled softly in the green flames of the fireplace. “Oh, you flatter me, Rita. But I do just happen to have an extra copy of my memoirs,” he said as he held out a heavy bag of parchment scrolls through the flames. “Please do take care with them.”

A few weeks later Gilderoy received an owl:

We’re looking at a Christmas release of Wanderings with Werewolves! -RS


	9. Chapter 9

10 years later – 1990 - Forests of Albania

Quirinus lunged for the portkey, but Gilderoy blocked his path.

“What are you doing?” cried Quirinus. “I didn’t count on vampires being a part of our world tour! Let’s get out of here!”

“No! We... we must defeat them first,” said Gilderoy with a shaky voice. Suddenly, one came swooping down onto him so fast that he fell onto his back before he knew what was happening.

Quirrell looked to his fallen friend and without thinking used the most potent spell he could think of to end the threat. “Avada Kedavra!” he yelled, pointing his wand at the vampire hovering over Gilderoy’s prone form. Immediately the vampire went limp and fell upon Gilderoy pinning him under its weight.

More vampires began coming toward them from behind a nearby hill. Quirinus raised his wand above his head and bellowed, “aduro allium savitum!” Fire erupted from his wand and he directed the blaze toward the oncoming vampires. The pungent smell of roasted garlic filled the air as the vampires fell back and ran away.

Once he was sure the danger had passed, Quirinus ran to Gilderoy who still lay under the fallen vampire. “Wingardium leviosa,” he breathed as he lifted the body off of his friend. “Gilderoy! Gilderoy, are you all right?” Quirinus asked in a panicked voice.

A sly grin spread across Gilderoy’s face as he started laughing. 

“What are you…? How can you be laughing?” Quirinus asked incredulously. But then he too began to laugh as he offered his hand to his friend.

“That was incredible,” said Gilderoy. “It would make a fantastic story.”

“Oh I don’t know,“ replied Quirinus humbly, “that wasn’t as impressive as some of the things you’ve done, I hear.”

“Well yes,” Gilderoy chuckled self-indulgently, “but I think with a little creativity with the narrative, I would have quite a compelling story. What was that spell you used for the fire?”

“Oh, it’s one I invented during my academic study of vampires. The words are Aduro Allium Savitum, which roughly mean... fire-roasted garlic.” Quirrell blushed and laughed. “This is the first chance I’ve had to try out the spell. Well, that’s it then. Let’s be going, shall we?” He dusted himself off and made to step toward the portkey.

“WAIT!” yelled Gilderoy as he brought up his wand toward Quirinus.

“What are you doing, Gilderoy?” Quirinus asked confused.

Gilderoy leveled his wand at his friend. “I just defeated a coven of vampires single-handedly.”

“Wha..? No you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did. And now I’m going back to my comfortable house in Dandee where I will transcribe the adventure and submit it to my publisher.” He kept his wand trained on Quirinus’ face. His own face a mask of stone that he taught himself early on to use.

“But… we’re friends, aren’t we?” Quirinus pleaded. 

Gilderoy shook his head. There was no emotion in his eyes. Quirinus hardly recognized him. Gilderoy didn’t have friends. Not really. His life revolved around his fantasy world created by his own quill. When Quirinus didn’t receive an answer his eyes darted around the clearing until he spotted the portkey lying next to a section of charred earth that still smelled like roasted garlic. Gilderoy noticed the almost imperceptible twitch in Quirinus’ wand arm. He was going to use a summoning spell - either that or Disapparate. Gilderoy never did learn how to Disapparate, hence his dependence on portkeys for travel. Quirinus parted his lips, but before he could utter the word, Gilderoy whispered, “Oblivate.”

Quirinus’ eyes unfocused as Gilderoy bent down to touch the portkey. He was whisked away while Quirrell was left standing alone in the Albanian forest. When Quirrell finally recovered his senses he was overwhelmed by the sounds of the forest at night. How had he gotten here? A noise to his left caused him to turn sharply. There was a dead body on the ground near him - it was a vampire! An owl hooted overhead. He was breathing hard.

“Sssss…”

Quirrell whipped around again.

“Quirinesssssss…” a voice like dry dust hissed.

“Wh-who are y-you?” he squeaked out in a panic.

“Ssssomeone who can help you. Quirinessss… come to meeee…”   
________________________________________  
Epilogue 1993

Gilderoy assessed the two boys feverishly after stealing the ginger’s wand. This would be his best story yet! Defeating the monster in the Chamber of Secrets - It had all the makings of a best-seller. Gilderoy turned his cold eyes on the boys, empty of emotion. “OBLIVIATE!” He cried.

White, sterile. The room slowly came into focus around him. He was lying on a narrow bed in an unfamiliar room. He was confused and his heart began to race. A woman walked to his bed and in the rush of air around her, he could smell the scent of her perfume - lilacs. His heartbeat slowed and he relaxed onto the pillow.

“Hello Gilderoy,” said the nurse as she smiled warmly down at him, “My name is Nurse Danielle, and I’ll be caring for you today.”

She offered her hand to him, and he took it tentatively. It was soft and smooth. He joined his other hand to hers and looked into her eyes almost spellbound. 

“You must tell me where you got your hand cream,” he whispered, breathless.

Danielle blushed, “My sister is a marvel with potions. She created it for me. I can bring some in for you, if you’d like.”

Gilderoy smiled, crinkles forming around his eyes. His forehead was unlined, and he laughed, easy and free. His blue eyes were soft and friendly. “I would like that,” he said.


End file.
